


415 AD

by SecurityVampire



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ancient History, Gen, Historical, Sad, murder mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecurityVampire/pseuds/SecurityVampire
Summary: Was Alexandria one of ours or one of yours?
Kudos: 3





	415 AD

“I heard,” said Aziraphale, not looking up, voice oddly cold, especially for these days when they tended to see each other more than once a century, “that you took credit for--”   
  
Crowley cut him off with a sharp hiss. “Oh come on, do you really think--of course I got a memo asking about it, but--” he might not have told home office that it  _ wasn’t _ him, as such, but really, the angel ought to know him well enough to know he didn’t actually  _ want _ to be associated with this.   
  
“But from everything I hear,” he continued, perhaps sounding a bit more accusatory than he intended, in his defensiveness, “this was one of  _ yours.” _   
  
Aziraphale looked offended in turn, stuttering out a flustered and angry response.   
“It  _ certainly _ was not--! You know, you  _ know _ if I’d just  _ been _ here that--” the guilt that he  _ hadn’t,  _ that he’d been anywhere other than Egypt, performing some frivolous little miracle, may not have been the demon’s fault, but he was the most convenient one to take it out on, considering the angel was doing his best not to make a scene while people were trying to mourn.   
  
“You’d’ve what? Actually convinced them this  _ wasn’t _ what She wanted?” Crowley seemed unconvinced--perhaps not with Aziraphale’s intent but at least with the idea it would have worked.   
  
“It can’t have been--”   
“Right, sure but they’re still  _ your _ people,  _ angel.” _ _  
_ _  
_ “That doesn’t mean,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, and quiet, trying to choose his words carefully, “that they always get things right.”   
  
The angel had  _ not _ chosen his words well enough.   
  
“They don’t always get things  _ right?” _ the demon repeated, incredulously, voice jumping up half an octave.    
“There’s getting it  _ wrong, _ angel,” this was one of those moments, the second in the conversation, where it sounded more like an insult than a term of endearment, “and  _ then  _ there’s skinning a woman alive in the middle of the--”    
  
Crowley cut himself off as his companion simply  _ crumbled, _ realising too late that he was going too far. Kicking himself as Aziraphale buried his face in his hands, unable to look at him for entirely different reasons now.   
  
“I’m…” his voice softened. “Look, I  _ know  _ you didn’t want this.”    
  
“She was my friend,” came the eventual reply, voice distant.   
  
“...I know, angel.” Crowley tentatively laid a hand on the other’s shoulder. More  _ forward _ than the two of them usually were, but at the moment he wasn’t thinking about that. “I know.”   
  
He sighed, wishing there was anything to say here, really. “It’s a wonder humanity hasn’t put us all out of a job yet. Give them a chance and they sink lower than anyone downstairs would dream of.”    
  
Aziraphale simply nodded, with a shiver.   
  
“...Come on. I’ll buy you a drink or ten.”

**Author's Note:**

> My friend asked if Azzy was friends with Hypatia, and then I made myself sad, so the rest of you have to be sad too.


End file.
